


Interim

by Ausp_ice



Series: Chrysalism [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Art, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Vampire Chloe, Vampire Kamski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24775603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Ausp_ice
Summary: The week between the disappearance of Connor and Nines and their return was not an easy one.(A fic illustrating Kamski's response in the interim. Takes place during the events ofChrysalism.)
Relationships: Connor & Elijah Kamski, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed, Original Chloe | RT600 & Elijah Kamski, Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Elijah Kamski
Series: Chrysalism [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790401
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	Interim

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place right after [Bloom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497261/chapters/59522818) in Chrysalism, and ends sometime before [Awakening](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497261/chapters/59753515). 
> 
> Thank you to [Ronnie Silverlake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake) and Lunar / [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken) for beta!
> 
> And a special thank you to Ronnie for inspiring this :'D

As soon as Connor and Nines vanish in a flash of demonic magic, Elijah falls to his knees. His mind is already running a mile a minute. They're not—they can't—he can still help them. The netherworld isn't entirely inaccessible. It's not impossible to pull them out, with the right spells. Demonic magic can be accessed through various methods. Artifacts. Contracts… 

(And as long as their souls are intact, they could even be returned to life. Even if they aren't… there are no impossibilities. With the right price.)

"Elijah," he hears behind him. A touch lands on his shoulder. "You should come inside."

"I can help them," he says, voice monotone. "I can still help them."

Chloe's grip tightens. "They've been taken to Hell, haven't they?"

"There are still methods," Elijah insists, turning to look at Chloe. "They could still be…" 

Her face is carefully impassive. "Come inside," she says. 

* * *

Elijah doesn't fully remember being guided back inside. Nor does he recall sitting down on one of the couches in a living room. He's already mentally running through his libraries, considering his options. 

Anything that compromises his ability to continue mentoring them is out of the question, of course. He would not rob them of their education, or of… whatever attachment they might have developed for him. 

All known demonic artifacts have been sealed away, save for those licensed to certain users, but… he could certainly acquire access to them. Using them safely is another matter entirely. 

A contract could work, but what demons accept for payment varies greatly, and few are willing to go against a high-class demon—which is what the entity that took his wards seems to be, based on the intensity of its magic. 

Still, he could try. 

He stands, ignoring the warning of "Elijah—" from Chloe, and steps into the shadows to enter his lab. He wastes no time in making his way to the central table. 

There must be some way. 

* * *

He isn't aware of how much time passes as he tries to derive a method for extracting them from a high-class demon's void. 

(He stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the fact that it may be too late. Demons can easily consume or destroy souls, after all.) 

Chloe enters the lab on occasion, watching him quietly. "Elijah," she says, one day. That, and nothing more. 

She doesn't need to. He already knows—she wants him to stop. She already knows, she already knows— 

(There's nothing he can do now. They are already in the demon's own realm, and there, it can do anything it wishes to them. To Connor and Nines. To his wards, to his… )

The look on Chloe's face as she watches him might be something like grief. 

* * *

"You're planning something stupid again, aren't you." 

He looks up from the table, and then blinks a few times. "Gavin." He can hear the surprise in his own voice. 

His half-brother is standing at the door to the lab, wearing his usual casual ensemble—leather jacket, gray shirt, dark jeans. Gavin's arms are crossed in front of him, and his brows are pinched together in something that could possibly be identified as anger, frustration, or perhaps even concern. "Chloe told me what happened. You lost your…" he makes a face, "kids?" 

"My wards were taken by a demon," Elijah confirms. 

Gavin frowns. "Are they… are they dead?" 

"No," Elijah immediately denies. "No, they wouldn't—not so soon…"

"Okay," Gavin lifts his hands up, "okay." He takes a seat on a stool next to Elijah. "So, what? Are they a lost cause?"

"I can still help them," Elijah hisses, gripping the table. "They are my responsibility. There are ways to pull them out of the netherworld." He grits his teeth. "Dead or alive."

He can see Gavin watching him out of the corner of his eyes. "And would those ways happen to be dangerous or illegal?"

Elijah remains silent. 

"What are the chances of them escaping on their own?"

Elijah looks up at Gavin. 

"They're really strong, aren't they?" Gavin shrugs. "You keep saying that they're magical geniuses or whatever the fuck." 

"They are," Elijah murmurs. "However, Connor has been possessed. Their power will likely be turned against one another. But Nines…" He presses a hand to his face. "I doubt Nines is capable of harming his brother, even if it becomes necessary. The possibility of them both surviving is slim." A bitter laugh escapes him. "And if one dies, so will the other. Be it by body, mind, or soul. Perhaps all at once." 

Gavin hums, before letting silence fall around them for a moment. "Eli," he starts. "How long have you been down here?"

"Unimportant. Ever since they were taken, I suppose." 

At that, Gavin immediately stands and grabs him by the wrist, pulling Elijah as he turns to walk to the lab's exit. Elijah is too surprised to resist, though he very easily could. "What are you doing," he asks.

"You're taking a break. It's been three days, as far as I know." 

Ah.

Elijah allows himself to be dragged to a couch. Gavin lets go of his wrist and presses down on his shoulders, making him sit down. A moment later, a weight shifts the cushions as Gavin sits down next to him, half a meter in between them. 

Neither of them say anything for a few minutes, until Gavin breaks the silence. "That tracking spell. It should work as long as they're alive, right?" 

"More or less," Elijah replies dryly. So long as their bodies are functioning, at least. A more advanced version could track down a corpse, even. "It is meaningless. There would be no reaction so long as they do not exist in this plane."

"Would it work right now if they… died in Hell, or whatever." 

Elijah looks up at Gavin. "… No. It wouldn't. The spell would no longer have anything to track, and would fail to execute." 

"So," Gavin meets his eyes, "You'd know if they're dead." 

He would. 

Gavin holds his gaze, unwavering, and Elijah grits his teeth, looking away. 

"You can't keep running, Eli. It's better to know the truth." 

Elijah hisses through his teeth, closing his eyes. And then—he lifts his hands, holding out the wrist of his left before viciously slicing the pointed thumbnail of his right across the skin. His brother inhales sharply at the action. The wound heals quickly, but enough blood has already flowed out of it for Elijah's uses. He channels his magic through his veins, and the crimson begins to lift, humming with his power. 

He thinks of both of them. Connor and Nines. Nines and Connor. Intertwined—a singularity that became two and still yearns for unity. The blood quivers, hanging suspended in the air.

For a moment, Elijah distantly wonders if the spell won't take. If the two of them are already forever lost in the void. If, after everything… He's failed them.

And then the blood sinks into his skin, forming a band on his wrist. He stares at it. There's no pull, of course. But this means… 

"They're alive, then?" 

Elijah looks up at Gavin. "They're alive." He looks back at his wrist, grasping at the mark with his other hand. He pulls the knuckles of his left wrist to his lips. "They're alive," he whispers. "I thought…" he shifts his hands to press on his face, palms over his mouth and fingers over his eyes. He barely recognizes the sound coming from himself. A keen, perhaps. "I thought I failed them." He chuckles bitterly. "Like I failed you." 

"Eli?" A brief pause. "Shut the fuck up." 

He doesn't get a chance to respond to that before there's a weight on his side, and he's wrapped in warmth and the familiar scent of bitter coffee and quiet nights. Elijah is awkward and stiff in the sudden contact. 

"You didn't fail me," Gavin says quietly. 

"You—you almost died," Elijah whispers. "Twice. Simply due to association with me and my family."

_ "Our  _ family. And that just means you saved me twice, doesn't it?"

"If you weren't involved, you never would have been in danger."

"If I weren't involved, I never would have been born, would I? And didn't I say to shut up?"

Elijah opens his mouth again, and Gavin squeezes him tightly enough that if he were still human, it might have impeded his breathing. "Listen to me," Gavin says. "You've kept me alive. You keep visiting me, even though you keep feeding yourself that bullshit that I don't fit into your world—"

"It's not about  _ you  _ not fitting in," Elijah interrupts, drawing his hands down slightly. "I—we're incompatible. You were unhappy here. I'm not  _ good  _ for you. Magic society isn't good for you."

"No, fuck that. Who are you to decide what's good for me or not? I was unhappy here because you were so fucking  _ distant.  _ I'm not some fragile flower, you know. You treat me like some kind of glass vase that'll shatter if you poke it the wrong way." Before Elijah can formulate a response, Gavin barrels on. "You've done so much for me already, Eli. You're  _ trying— _ don't think I can't tell. For me, and for them. You've done your best for us, and if it's been enough to keep my dumbass alive, I'm sure it's enough to keep your genius kids alive." Gavin squeezes him again. "You're not gonna lose them. They'll be back."

Elijah lowers his hands slowly. "Where does your confidence come from, Gavin?" He murmurs. "Upon what does your faith rest?"

"You."

They remain still for a moment. And then Elijah twists, shifting around to wrap his arms around his brother's neck in a sudden movement, burying his face in Gavin's shoulder. "I can't lose them. I—…" He draws in a shuddering breath. He may not need it to live, but he does need it to talk, and he's finding it harder and harder to do so. "I can't lose any more of my… my family." 

Gavin rubs soothing circles on his back. "They're my family too, now, aren't they?" He murmurs, after a moment. "When they're back, we should all get together. Do something."

When. Not if. 

"Ha," he gives a single, weak laugh. "And what might that something be?"

"Uh…" Gavin shrugs, or attempts to, with the shoulder that Elijah isn't on. "Lunch? Dinner?"

"You realize that only you and Nines eat regular food, yes?"

Gavin shifts. "Got any better ideas?"

"Not at the moment," Elijah answers, mouth ticking just barely into a smile. "I don't believe I have the mental energy for it. We can have a meal together. When… when they come back." 

"Looking forward to it," Gavin murmurs in response. 

* * *

Another three days pass. Gavin stays. Elijah continues his research—if he had nothing to occupy himself with, he would drive himself mad. 

But Gavin and Chloe help him come to terms with the fact that there's little he can do to help them now. He hangs by a thread to the knowledge that they're still alive—every day, he spends hours looking at his wrist, running his thumb across the mark, hoping,  _ hoping, _ for a reaction. Dreading, more than anything, its disappearance. 

The entire time, Gavin remains beside him. They still orbit in stilted conversations, neither of them sure of what to say, but just having him there is… good. When Elijah can't find the mental energy to move anymore, Gavin pulls him up—perhaps in more ways than one—and holds him. He offers his blood, and Elijah very carefully takes it from the wrist. Toeing a connection he has not allowed himself. 

On the evening of the sixth day, he feels something. It takes him a moment to realize what it is, and then he lifts his wrist. He focuses on the twins, and—there's a tug. His eyes widen. 

"Eli?" 

Elijah looks up from the table to where Gavin's sitting, arms folded on the table. "You okay?" Gavin asks.

"There's a reaction," Elijah whispers. "I—I have to. I have to go."

"Shit." Gavin immediately stands. "Eli, there's a blizzard outside. Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'll manage. I am more concerned about—"

"Whether  _ they'll _ be okay." Gavin sighs, before making his way over to Elijah and wrapping him in a fierce hug. "Take care, Eli." He steps back. "Go get 'em." 

Elijah nods. "Thank you, Gavin," he murmurs, before stepping into shadow.

* * *

The storm is fierce. Visibility is low. He steps in mile-long gaps, focusing on the mark in between each one to adjust his trajectory. The cold seeps into his limbs, stiffening his joints, and he resents that he has to pause and cast a heating spell on himself every now and then. 

The reaction from the mark seems to fluctuate even beyond his own movements, and he—he worries. He fears. 

Until finally, finally, he steps out of the darkness—and there they are. Connor is on his knees, eyes wide, tears frozen on his face, arms wrapped tightly around—Nines, limply lying against Connor's shoulder. 

Elijah falls to his knees, laying one hand on top of one of Connor's, and using his other to take one of Nines's limp hands. The mark vanishes. 

He can't breathe. He can't speak. There's a cloying feeling in his throat, and he can't… He can't… 

"M-Mr. Kamski," he hears, barely. "Nines is so cold. I can't tell if he's breathing. I can't tell if his heart is beating. I tried to keep him warm. But he's still so cold."

(He can't lose them.)

Elijah gently eases Nines away from his brother's chest, setting him across Connor's lap. There's no reaction from him at all. His eyes are closed. 

The cloying feeling grows stronger. Elijah presses his fingers to Nines's neck. No pulse. He hovers a hand over Nines's mouth. No breath. 

He can't… 

"Mr. Kamski?" Connor sounds nearly lost. 

Elijah calls his magic to him, and places his hand on Nines's chest. Shadow magic is, luckily, one of the types of magic that can more easily affect souls. While he's not the best at handling souls, if Nines's is still here, then… 

There's a flicker of a reaction against his magic. His eyes widen. "He's alive. He's—his soul is still here." Then… Elijah modifies the structure of his scan, hovering both hands over his ward. Nines must be under some kind of magic influence, if his body is… in the state it's in. 

The scan informs him—"A cryostasis spell," he says in a shaking breath. Of course. Elijah looks up at Connor. "He'll be alright." 

The look on Connor's face is so full of raw, unadulterated relief. Elijah doesn't get the chance to say anything more before Connor suddenly sags forward, like a doll with strings cut. 

"Connor!" Elijah shouts, grasping his shoulder with one hand and holding Nines up with his other. He should have—of course Connor would be in a poor state as well. He was possessed, for fuck's sake, and both of them were stuck in the netherworld for who knows how long. 

Alright. First—first, they need to get out of the storm. He should… they need to go to the hospital, most likely. But he needs to know what's wrong, first. 

He gathers the twins in his arms, calling his magic, and shadow-steps straight to the lobby of their home. He sets them gently down on the floor, side by side, ignoring how  _ lifeless  _ they look. 

Now that he has some idea of Nines's state, he can construct a diagnostic spell to account for the cryostasis. And he already knows a standard construction for vampires—considering that a basic diagnostic would just return that both of them are dead. 

Since Nines seems to be fairly stable, Elijah weaves the spell for Connor first. It's a bit involved, having to factor in his vampirism, integrating soul diagnostics, constructing the intricate threads of medical magic. But he finishes within a minute, and presses his hand to Connor's chest. 

His mind is immediately flooded with information about his physiological state—no physical injuries detected, blood volume very high, stiffened joints from the cold, exhaustion, stress. And then, metaphysical information: severe soul wounds, recent trauma, recent possession, stabilized by external magic. 

He can process that later. Elijah moves to Nines, and constructs another diagnostic spell. This one takes longer, nearly two minutes, before he finishes the construction and places his hand on Nines's chest. 

All physiological processes frozen. Internal temperature: -10°C, magically sustained. Minimal brain activity. Recently healed physical injuries. 73.6% blood volume lost. Signs of high stress and exhaustion. No vampiric contamination. Metaphysical information: Moderate soul wounds. Recent trauma. Magical exhaustion. 

"Elijah?" He looks up from where he's kneeling next to Nines to see Chloe standing in the doorway. Her eyes fall on the twins, and she inhales sharply. "Elijah, are they—"

"They're alive. Badly hurt. But alive." 

Gavin appears in the doorway, pausing only for a moment, before sidling past Chloe to kneel in front of Elijah. "They're okay?"

"Nines must have saved Connor… he's in cryostasis. He lost over seventy percent of his blood. That must be why Connor is so stable, despite his severe soul wounds…" He trails off absently.

"Eli, focus." There's a snap of fingers in front of his face, and he blinks in surprise. Gavin's hand is on his shoulder, now. "What do you need to do?"

"I—" Elijah swallows. "I need to take them to supernatural intensive care." 

"Alright. Okay. I can call them to let them know we're coming, okay? Hang in there."

He's faintly aware of Gavin taking out his phone and dialing the hospital. At some point, Gavin taps his shoulder. "Do you know what's wrong with them?" 

Elijah nods, taking the phone from his brother's hands. He rattles off the information from the diagnosis without really thinking about it, before handing the phone back to Gavin. 

They continue to talk a bit more, and Elijah only answers a "yes" to Gavin's question of whether he'll be teleporting them there. It's only when Gavin hangs up that Elijah processes: "Let them know  _ we're  _ coming?"

Gavin gives him a look. "Yeah. I'm coming with you."

"You know it takes more effort to transport more people, right?"

"Uh huh. And I know you can probably transport twenty people at once without batting an eye. Don't give me that bullshit."

"Ha," Elijah laughs, once. "Very well. Chloe?" 

"I can stay here, Elijah. I'll hold down the fort."

He gives a nod in response.

It's not long before Gavin gets the confirmation that the hospital is ready, and without further ado, Elijah grabs onto the twins, Gavin grabs onto him, and he pulls them all into darkness. 

They arrive in the room designated for those teleporting in, and are immediately greeted by an array of hospital staff with two gurneys. "We'll take care of them from here, sir," he's faintly aware of one of them saying. "We'll do our best to get them through this, alright?"

He holds onto the twins' hands for another moment, before letting the staff take them. A flurry of activity, and then they're gone. Leaving him and Gavin standing in the arrival room. 

"Eli?" There's a touch on his shoulder. "They're gonna be okay."

He meets his brother's eyes. "They're in capable hands," Gavin says. 

Elijah tries to take a step forward, towards the waiting area. He doesn't expect his legs to fold under him, barely spared from crumpling to the floor by a firm grasp on around his chest. "You're okay. They're gonna be okay," he hears. 

He's gently lowered to the floor, and then completely wrapped in warmth. His face is pressed to the crook of his brother's neck—a firm, stable embrace. Elijah's arms hang uselessly at his sides.

"I'm right here, okay? Connor and Nines are gonna make it," Gavin murmurs, pressing him close. 

Elijah closes his eyes as they start to burn. He slowly lifts his hands to circle around Gavin's back, before squeezing tightly, burying his face in his brother's neck.

"Everything will be okay," Gavin continues, reassuring. 

And maybe, maybe… Elijah will let himself believe it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kamski can be very attached to the few things he's attached to :')
> 
> Art is on dA [here](https://sta.sh/0mfkxqvpjug).


End file.
